


The Unarmored shoulder

by LCNH1



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-10-08 01:38:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17377100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LCNH1/pseuds/LCNH1
Summary: I noticed something recently when looking at an article about Roman and the night he had to relinquish the Universal title. It might seem arbitrary, but It made me think a moment and I had to write this.Update: Now that he's back, he even illustrated such after his return speech. (Just the important stuff for this one)





	The Unarmored shoulder

10/22/2018

Roman Reigns had kept to himself most of the afternoon. He'd made small talk with Dean and Seth, keeping the mood as light as he could. He knew they'd notice soon enough.

"Everything ok, Ro?" Dean finally asked as he rummaged for a clean shirt in his gear. "You're pretty quiet for being our fighting champion."

"It's all good, just tired. Been a crazy couple of weeks."

Seth clapped Roman on the shoulder. "There you are, champ! What's the big announcement tonight? Don't you want us out there? C'mon, brothers should stand together, right?"

"Not this time. It's about the title." Roman picked up the Universal title with his left hand. "I want everyone to hear it at the same time. Even you guys."

Dean gave Reigns an odd look. "What, they making you face Lesnar again?"

"DEFINITELY not that," the Samoan answered with more energy. His brothers in arms relaxed.

"C'mon, big man, fill us in!" Seth gripped at Roman's right shoulder.

"Sorry, boss' orders. Everybody hears this all at once so it doesn't start any rumors."

"'Rumors'??" Dean joked, trying to mimic his buddy's baritone, "'who said anything about rumors'?" The three of them shared a laugh.

"Besides, I'm opening the show so y'all don't have to wait."

Dean smirked. "That'll keep Seth off your back. That means I'll get it out of you first."

"You gonna try and out-stubborn me?" Roman queried. "I don't think so." He stood and again forced a smile. "Show's gonna start soon, gonna go get ready."

"Not in here?"

"I'm not giving you OR Dean any more chances at figuring this out." He continued shaking his head and walked out, belt slung over his left shoulder.

\---------------------------------

The distinctive march of his music could still get his adrenaline flowing and his heart thumping. He closed his eyes for a moment to let that theme play, and listen to the crowd cheer and boo. The sounds washed over him as he emerged onto the stage, belt resting on his left shoulder. He didn't have his vest on; he'd grabbed a simple black t-shirt, jeans, and black sneakers. He had a chain around his neck and his good watch on his left wrist. He acknowledged the crowd, glancing down once more at the red leather belt he'd been chasing for three years.

 

Tonight, the belt rested on his "unarmored" shoulder.

To those watching, it might seem arbitrary. To him, it was a large part of what he had to tell these people. He raised the mic, took a deep breath, and began.

‘I feel like... I feel like I owe everybody an apology. For months, maybe even a full year, I’ve come out here and spoke as Roman Reigns and I said a lot of things, you know. I said that I’d be here every single week. I said I’d be a fighting champion. I said I was going to be consistent and I said I was gonna be a Workhorse, but that’s all lies."

The crowd quieted; love or hate, this wasn't a typical Roman Reigns speech. He looked at the belt again, something he'd only held a couple of months but had chased for so long, and now....

"It’s a lie because the reality is, my real name is Joe and I’ve been living with Leukemia for 11 years."

The crowd and all of backstage fell silent. All eyes were not on the Samoan Superhero Roman Reigns, but a young man named Joseph Leati Anoa'i.

"And, unfortunately, it’s back. And because the Leukemia is back I cannot fulfill my role, I can’t be that fighting champion and I’m going to have to relinquish the Universal Championship."

He could see the looks of shock, horror and fear on everyone in the arena. Even the few idiots who had been chanting "What?!" had stopped.

"I’m not gonna lie, I’ll take every prayer you can send my way but I’m not looking for sympathy. I’m not looking for you to feel bad for me. Because I have faith. When I was 22 years old I was diagnosed with this, and very quickly I was able to put it in remission, but I’m not going to lie, that was the hardest time of my life. I didn’t have a job I didn’t have any money, I didn’t have a home. And I had a baby on the way. And football was done with me.

"But do you want to know who gave me a chance? The team that gave me a chance was the WWE." The crowd surprisingly applauded. "And when I finally made it to the main roster and I was on the road they put me in front of all of you, the WWE universe, and to be honest, you all have made my dreams come true."

More applause. Roman still had a point to make. "And it didn’t matter if you cheered me. It didn’t matter if you booed me. You have always reacted to me and that is the most important thing. And for that, I have to say thank you so much."

The first of the "Thank You Roman!" chants started then, and Reigns struggled to keep his emotions in check. He hadn't had this unified of a positive response in almost three years.

"Thank you. But you all know the deal, you all know how life is, life is not fair. It’s not all peaches and cream, sometimes life throws you a curve-ball. And right now, the best thing for me to do is to go home to focus on my family and my health." 

The crowd applauded in approval. It was getting harder to speak. He took a couple of breaths through his nose and tried to hide a tear before he could continue.

"But I want to make one thing clear," he assured the audience as much himself, "by no means is this retirement speech. Because after I’m done whooping Leukemia’s ass once again, I’m coming back home." The cheers intensified, steadying his emotions.  "And when I do, it’s not just going to be about titles and being on top it’s about a purpose. I’m coming back because I want to show all of you, the whole world, I want to show my family, my friends, my children and my wife that when life throws a curve-ball at me, I am the type of man that will stand in that batter’s box, I will crowd the plate, I will choke up and I will swing for the fences every single time!" His conviction even startled himself for a moment as the crowd continued to cheer.

"Because I will beat this, and I will be back, so you will see me very very soon!" He gave a final look to the hopeful faces in the crowd. "Once again, thank you so much, God bless you and I love you."

His voice finally cracked. "Believe that." 

The support from the crowd lightened a much heavier heart as he took the belt from his unarmored shoulder and looked it over a couple more times. Amongst the cheers and suport a "Roman! Roman! Roman!" chant broke out, breaking his trance on this prize that no longer really meant much in the grand scheme of things. The chant morphed into "Thank you Roman!" and clapping for him. 

He raised his left hand to the crowd in a tacit goodbye before lowering the belt to the center of the ring. He wasn't about to find ways to hold onto a belt and do nothing. He wasn't Brock Lesnar. It wasn't about the money, it wasn't about the fame. It was about his family and his inherited pride and honor that he had to do this. He didn't take his eyes off the belt until he'd cleared the ropes and started down the steps. Fans offered handshakes and encouragement; something that "Roman" had taken for granted the few times it had been offered before. Now "Joe" could offer his right hand to them, reminding him that this was going to be a long, hard fought battle ahead, but one he knew he could win.

No music played as he walked up the ramp; this wasn't the time or place for it. As he neared the top his brothers emerged, the first of the entire WWE family to embrace him, as it was their right. Seth visibly cried, unable to hold back his emotions from the announcement and the rest of the promo. Dean seemed distant, but wasn't about let Seth be the only one to say goodbye for now. They locked up in a group hug, Joe's head buried in his brothers' shoulders. He didn't want the crowd see him cry but he couldn't hold back any longer. That only made it worse for Seth. 

Dean could hear them both, and a comforting hand went over his big brother's head to Rollins. His eyes were dry and looking to the crowd before turning back to his brothers. 

 _Why?_ Dean thought as his brothers stepped back.  _Why didn't Roman tell us sooner? Did he tell Seth?_ He watched as they dried their eyes. Roman didn't even look back to Dean as he raised his right fist. Defeatedly Seth nodded and touched fists with Roman. 

 _You could tell Triple H about this, you could tell Vince McMahon about this, but you couldn't clue us in?_ Dean put his left fist to Roman's.  _Motherfucker._

The Shield anthem played and the two put their heads together one last time. No words were exchanged. Again, Roman didn't look Dean in the eye.

 _Couldn't trust us..._ Dean's shoulders weaved a little as he turned to walk off the stage. Neither one looked back him. 

_You couldn't trust me....?_

 

 -------------------------------

 

2/25/2019

 

Roman thought he’d never hear his music again unless he watched old matches. He only heard the first few notes, drowned out by the roar of the Atlanta crowd.

He marched out, catching that wave of energy. Overwhelming positive vibes, which washed over him again and again. He’d been struck dumb from the noise. The cheers, the screams, the signs, the crowd. A grin spread across his face. He clapped his own hands before striding down the ramp.

They only got louder as he was announced. He wanted to feel all of that energy up close and personal. He slapped hands, shook hands, touched fists, took pictures. Not a bad word to be heard.

It hit closest when he hugged his wife and more so as he embraced his mother. She patted his right shoulder and gently stroked his neck to calm him, telling him that this is what he wanted - and what the family wanted. He gave his grandmother a small hug and turned to the ring.

What was once _his_ ring. He ran his right hand along the ring as he approached the stairs, glancing more at the canvas, that night four months prior running though his mind once more. That faded slowly as the crowds again cheered and chanted for him, putting some spring to his step as he hopped up the metal stairs and walked along the apron, thanking the crowd profusely.

He mounted the far corner to pose, only getting more cheers. “Yessir~!” he shouted over them as he triumphantly raised both arms, ridiculously happy and excited as the crowd continued to cheer.

He turned to step through the ropes, a motion he had done so many times for so many years, but tonight, it felt more like entering church. This 20 foot by 20 foot space was holy ground. He walked a slow circle as his music finally faded, and he could hear 10,000+ erupt in a “Welcome back!” chant. He finally reached for a microphone.

“I’m probably gonna say this a lot,” he began, “but I’m gonna start off by saying, ‘thank you.’ “ The crowd roared in approval, a smattering of chants trying to start up.

“I missed y’all. I’m serious, I _missed_ y’all - there is no other job like this! There’s no other fanbase like you guys!” And Roman meant that. He took another breath to calm himself.

His ear caught a chant from guys usually booing him. “This is your yard!” They shouted and clapped. Reigns didn’t bother suppressing a grin.

“I’m ad-libbin a little bit here, but I used to say ‘this is My Yard’, but… This is OUR Yard!

“And I said this before, I’m a man of faith. I’ve always believed in God, I’ve always believed he favored me and looked out for me, but…” he felt his voice about to crack. He lowered the mic a moment, and the crowd filled in for him. Composure regained, he continued.

“But I’m not gonna lie, before my announcement in October, I was terrified, y’all. I was scared. I was insecure, and I didn’t really know if I wanted to share that secret with the world.”

Roman thought back to the mix of cheers and boos the crowds would give him when he would walk out. The cross-chanting, the “you still suck!” chants, the negativity. He’d feared that sharing the bad news about his leukemia would have been dismissed as a sympathy ploy, as some sort of storyline to get people to cheer him. He’d already heard people talking that he just “took a vacation” and that his leukemia was just a cover-up. They didn’t know. He made the decision mostly because he didn’t want to lie to the fans, even if sometimes they didn’t even deserve all the hard work he put in the ring - or understand all the work he went through outside of it for the last four months.

“And that overwhelming support that you gave me,” _including even right now,_ he thought, “it gave me strength, it gave me new life, it gave me a new opportunity and it gave me a new purpose.

“A lot of your purpose as a young Superstar is to win titles and to climb that mountain to get to the top and put your flag there. And that’s still really important but the only thing that’s important that I have the ability to set foot in this ring every single night! And if I can do that, I’m gonna use this platform, this giant WWE platform that is _global_ and the whole world can see it! I’m gonna use it to raise awareness! And I’m gonna use it to support those who were in need, just like I was.”

Another “Roman! Roman! Roman!” Chant erupted, continuing to humble the Big Dog. He looked to the crowds again, soaking in their support.

“Well, we advertised this as an update, so should we get to the update?”

The crowd cheered - no, _demanded_  - this update with an emphatic “Yes! Yes! Yes!” chant. Roman couldn’t smile harder if he tried.

“The good news is… **I’m in remission, y’all!** ”

What followed felt like fireworks - 10,000+ on their feet cheering in relief and gratitude that he had indeed won another round against leukemia.

“So with that being said,” Roman brought the growl back into his voice. “THE BIG DOG IS BACK!”

More cheers and celebration. Then he thought he heard booing. He leaned on the ropes a moment, putting a good ear to the sound. They weren’t booing. They were _barking._ Having that nickname all this time, this was the first time he could recall people barking for the Big Dog. The barking then swelled into another “Welcome back!” chant, which made it even harder to keep his eyes dry.

“So before I go… I’ll probably say it a whole bunch more times, but I’m gonna say it one last time, THANK YOU SO MUCH, y’all.”

Before he left the ring, though, he made sure to wave to the crowd:

 

   


He was back. Time to get back to work.

**Author's Note:**

> Cancer sucks.
> 
> Joe Superman Punched it again.
> 
> Welcome back, Roman.


End file.
